The Scarlet Dress
by Arianni
Summary: Oneshot. A tender side of Lady as she is reminded of the devil she left behind.


A/N

This is just a little something that popped into my head last night. Like it or lump it. :)

* * *

"I'm not wearing that." Lady stared bluntly at the slinky, scarlet cocktail dress being waved in front of her face. Kat peeped over the edge of the coat hanger, her face morphed in the irritating 'puppy-dog' look.

"Please, Lady? Come on, it's not that bad. Just because you're a gunslinger doesn't mean you can't be sexy too," she chimed, shaking the dress again.

"Sure it does," replied Lady, rolling her mismatched eyes.

"Can you at least try it on?" pleaded Kat. She presented the silky garment as if on a silver platter. Lady sighed and reluctantly accepted it.

"If it'll shut you up, fine," she muttered.

"Yay!" exclaimed Kat and seized her friend around the waist in a bear hug as Lady trudged towards the dressing rooms. She would look ridiculous; she was bulked up from years of training, not to mention her battle scars. And then there was the colour. Deep, rich scarlet. A cross of red and black. Human and devil. The colour of half-breed blood.

Of _his _blood.

"Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?" Kat's knuckles rapping on her head brought Lady sharply back to the present. To her relief, Kat released her and folded her arms, pouting.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll try the damn dress on!" said Lady, a ghost of a grin flitting across her face. Old Kat would fight until the bitter end to get her way, whether it was with clothes shopping, men, or combat. As Lady locked the change room door behind her and hung the dress on a hook, she remembered fondly the day she had met Kaitlyn Grant. She was around sixteen, at the Skirmish Centre in the city. All the other players had either run out of paint balls or were out for the count; she and Kat were the only ones left. They had battled fiercely, attempting sniper attacks, assaults and stealth moves on each other, neither giving in. But in the end, Kat's vicious determination won the game for her. They congratulated each other in good sportsmanship, and their friendship had blossomed from there. It was so strange, thought Lady as she stripped off in the spacious cubicle.

She and Kat were almost nothing alike. Kat dove into things without thinking, shrugged off heavy emotions and wasn't afraid to 'shake her booty' as she so called it…Lady stared at her clothes crumpled in a heap: worn skinny jeans and a simple blue tank top. It wasn't that she liked to exhibit her body. Lady couldn't stand loose clothing, clothes that restricted movement or got in the way. She needed to feel ready to fight at any moment, and how could she kick properly in a long skirt or punch with jewellery dripping from her wrists?

Lady slipped into the foreboding dress and fought with the tiny clasp at her neck. She succeeded in hooking it together and took a second to survey herself. It was tight; pencil-thin, extending to just above her knees and scooping slightly at the front. Lady frowned. Her knees were ugly, her thighs were huge with muscle, her shoulders were too broad, her scars –

weren't there.

Lady did a double-take and stepped closer to one of the mirrors, squinting for the crescent shaped scar she knew tattooed her right shoulder blade. It was there, but somewhat fainter than usual. _It's the light, _thought Lady, glancing up at the glaring fluorescence.

"You done?" came Kat's call from outside.

"Yeah – Kat, can you see this?" asked Lady as she unlocked the door. Kat tumbled into the change room and plonked herself down on a narrow seat.

"Woo, hello, sexy!" she teased. Lady made a face, then pointed to the crescent scar.

"Seriously, does this scar look fainter to you? Or is it just me?" she said. Kat's lips curled into a knowing smile.

"It's the dress," she replied. Lady furrowed her brows in confusion. Kat continued, "Scarlet is a very flattering colour. It makes the skin look paler, and smoothes over imperfections. Like, half my wardrobe is some shade of red."

_How ironic, _thought Lady as she checked her other scars to see if they were faint._ Dante never looked good in his own blood, and I do. _

"Does this mean you'll buy it?" asked Kat eagerly. Lady took one look at the plunging neckline and stared at her friend scornfully.

"I'd rather have guys talking to my face than my boobs," she said. Kat heaved a dramatic sigh and helped Lady with the dress's clasp.

"I can beat you at a gruelling game of skirmish, but I can't get you to dress like the sexy woman you are," she announced.

Lady grinned and tossed her chocolate hair.

"Damn straight."

* * *

A/N

Short and crappy, just the way I like it. Reviews would be nice.


End file.
